


Think About Me

by murdergatsby



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fear, Gen, Hannibal Loves Will, Hannibal misses Will, Hannibal wants to know Will loves him, Hannibal wants to know Will missed him, Heartbreak, M/M, Memory Palace, Scene Rewrite, THE WRATH OF THE LAMB, Will has all the power, sad as heck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 16:38:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6813784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdergatsby/pseuds/murdergatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“When life becomes maddeningly polite, think about me. Think about me, Will. Don’t worry about me.”</i><br/>-<br/>What if the glass wasn’t there to separate them when Will told Hannibal his goodbyes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Think About Me

Will approached him with a blank expression. He moved so fluidly it were as if he were only floating along the tile floor.

Hannibal stood his ground as the younger man closed in on him. His eyes were dark and focused, and he felt trapped. The only movement that came from him was coming from the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed down something hard and imaginary. The closer Will moved, the closer Hannibal came to choking on it.

When the toes of Will’s shoes were practically kissing Hannibal’s own, he bent his arm at the elbow and began to bring it up to Hannibal’s face. Hannibal followed the motion with his eyes to minimize to shock of what was to come, but still found himself gasping helplessly at the presence of Will’s warm palm on his cheek. He fought to keep his eyes open and stern on Will, but lost; they fluttered shut against the minor comfort Will’s touch brought him.

Will allowed himself to sigh as he devoured Hannibal expression. He loved the way Hannibal’s eyelids were leaping as if he had been lost to a nervous, nightmare filled sleep. Will could feel how aggressively Hannibal’s jaw was clenched, teeth pressed against teeth as if he hoped to break them. His lips were pressed just as tightly together with worry.

Hannibal swallowed down another imaginary-something that was drying out his throat. He opened his eyes and had them meet with Will’s. They were full of the same kind of stubborn grief that Will was feeling, the kind they’d never speak of. His eyes slick with the same kind of tears that they both blinked away in unison.    

Will swept his fingers over Hannibal’s cheek bone, then let them rest into a gripping point at the back of Hannibal’s neck, just as Hannibal had once done to him. Only, Will didn’t have a knife to bury into the lining of Hannibal’s belly. Will only had his words.

With a steadying breath, Will began to speak. His lips curved into a smile as if what he was saying was going to be affectionate and kind. Hannibal felt himself lean into and open himself to the concept of sweet words falling from Will’s lips in his regard. He wanted it so desperately.

“You turned yourself in, so I would always know where you were.” Will said. His curving, teasing, lying smile turned downward in a kind of shrug. He began to nod. He looked lost in contemplation for a moment, breaking eye contact from the older man to look at a spot on the floor behind them. “But you’d only do that, if I rejected you.”

Will’s thumb stayed against Hannibal’s cheek and began to move in slow circles, almost independently. The touch was forgiving and reassuring. It felt like a lie.

Will’s words struck Hannibal like a closed fist to the chest. He felt as if he had been knocked to the ground. It made him want to wanted to lash out, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.

His feet and arms were locked at his sides like they had been tied down with weights. No matter how badly he wanted to meet his shoes with Will’s shins, and no matter how badly he wanted to crush Will’s windpipe under his thumbs…No matter how badly he wanted to pull Will into his chest and cry on his shoulder, and no matter how badly he wanted cradle the small of Will's back with his palm...He wasn't moving.

The only motion Hannibal’s body could manage was an involuntary quiver of his shoulders, exposing the way he was sobbing within his mind.

Will brought his eyes back to Hannibal’s. He looked less sad within them, less caring and less careful. He seemed to be smirking in his eyes, dancing with delight at Hannibal's upset. He started to lean in, shifting his hips as if he may lift his foot for another step; another step that would bring him right into Hannibal’s body.

Hannibal’s skin tingled against the implication of the continued contact. He doubted it would come to fruition, but he wanted it; a terrible combination that left him at a breaking point he didn’t know he had. He very nearly closed his eyes again to shield himself from too much exposure.

“Goodbye.” Will said, suddenly. Pulling his hand from Hannibal’s cheek felt like he was tearing it from super glue, but he ignored the artificial pain and turned away. He did not make leave any hint that he may look back.

Hannibal felt thoroughly used, crushed and disconnected. It was as if Will’s hand had played some part in grounding him, despite the fact that it was slowly making him spiral out. As Will gained on the exit, an uninvited thought crossed into his mind.  

_This is the last time I’m ever going to see him._

Finally breaking through the force that had held him so deeply in place before, Hannibal took his first step forward since Will had arrived. Then another, accompanied by a stern call of “Will.”

Hannibal felt pride in how calm his voice felt leaving his body, despite how fearful he was that Will would ignore him. He didn’t want their last conversation to end with him desperately calling Will’s name, but he had to risk it.

_He can’t just go._

_I want him to stay._

_I need him to stop._

Will halted his steps and begrudgingly turned, with a sigh deeper than all the others. Hannibal was beginning to feel like an unruly teen that Will felt he needed to put in his place.

Hannibal found himself stuck again, without any words to say. He was already craving the sound of Will’s voice again.

“Was it good to see me?” Hannibal forced the words to come out confident, cocky. He hoped that would be enough to make Will admit what he’s feeling, what had earlier brought the tears to his eyes. It was a vocal trick to put himself back in a place of power but, in all honesty, Hannibal just wanted to hear one specific thing from Will’s lips:

_I missed you, Hannibal. Of course it was good to see you._

The tears came back to Will’s eyes quickly at that. His throat grew tight as he fought away the wish to sob. He wanted to bolt into the hall and slam the doors. He wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to hold up much longer.

“Good?” Will managed to ask, softly and unbroken by the tremble of his nerves. His head shook from side to side, slowly growing in speed and determination. “No.”

Again Will turned away. He moved his feet faster than he had before, and made it into the hall without another word from Hannibal. Thankfully.

Hannibal remained still until Will was long gone; until the doors had swung shut and he could no longer make out the foot prints in the hall. He waited until the smell of dogs, pine, and snow had faded away- until the sterile smell of the cleanser they used to wash his jumpsuit cluttered up his sinuses once more.

He waited until he was certain there was no one to hear him before letting a trembling sob break away from his lungs.

“Goodbye, Will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, friends.
> 
> This was purely made as an unrealistic "what if?" but I think it also works nicely to imagine this being how the scene played out in Hannibal's mind.


End file.
